Child Struggles
by Meridian31
Summary: "Who decided you were in charge of the TV remote?" / Drabble. One-Shot.


Being a mother was never a dream or life goal you had growing up. You'd never planned to have children, necessarily. It wasn't that you didn't want them, but you felt you had a lot more to contribute to the world and accomplish in your life outside of producing more humans.

So when you'd been with Corey for about two years, and you'd found yourself pregnant, you had a bit of a meltdown over it.

Corey, well, he had been exceptionally excited.

 _"Hell yeah! Kids are so cool. We can raise this awesome person that's gonna do good shit in the world and not be an asshole."_

His enthusiasm for your pregnancy became infectious over time. So by the time you were in active labor, you were beyond anxious and excited to meet your daughter.

Isabelle had been a learning experience for you, but one you had enjoyed every frustrating, exhausting, worrisome, fun second of.

And when her sister, Claire, joined the family three years later, you found yourself on a team of girls that had Corey wrapped around their fingers.

By the time the girls were both mobile, Corey was working as a commentator in WWE, and thankfully home more often than not. But he was still gone for about half the week, and that seemed to always be something the girls realized.

You felt like the girls hated you because you were home the most and therefore had to be the disciplinarian more often than not. And when Corey was home, it was 'fun' and 'easy'. He was the novelty, and you were the tired old routine.

It seemed worse as they learned more words and were able to give you more articulate attitude. Isabelle had spent an entire half hour the other day shouting at you to leave her alone, even though you were just trying to get her to sit in her chair so she didn't fall and hurt herself.

Corey assured you that you were doing just fine, that discipline was part of it, and you weren't being overly harsh or too lax. Your friends also commented regularly on how well-behaved your girls were. Out in public, however, was much different than at home in their comfort zone.

It felt like sometimes you weren't _enough_ or your girls resented you. Sometimes you felt like you were drowning in childrearing.

There were good moments, fun playtime and adventures out, but they just seemed to be outnumbered and overshadowed lately.

"Girls are down for the count," Corey's voice broke you out of your thoughts. You turned your head and watched him as he walked into the living room, falling down on the couch beside where you were curled up. Even though you nodded your head to acknowledge you'd heard him, he didn't seem to notice as he looked at the TV.

"Who decided you were in charge of the TV remote?"

You knew he meant it jokingly. You knew it was just a harmless poke at the fact you were watching some reality TV show about housewives and he wasn't a fan. But it rubbed you the wrong way. You were finally getting to have a few moments for yourself, and it wasn't even peaceful.

Saying nothing, you picked up the remote and held it out to him with a jerk of your arm.

It was a moment before he took the object from you.

"…you OK?"

"Yep. Watch whatever you want," you stated. Standing up, you barely got a step away before a hand was on your arm, stopping you.

"Sit back down." His command wasn't harsh, but it was serious. You plopped back down beside him, your sides just barely touching. "What's up?"

"Tired," was your answer.

"And…?"

Sometimes being with your best friend sucked, because Corey could read your moods and answers for what they really were. And you really didn't want to have a breakdown right now. You just wanted to go on with how things were, and handle it on your own. That's part of what being a mother was; pushing forward.

"Hey, come on, tell me what's bugging you. I can't help you if you don't tell me."

"Just, stress," you answered.

"OK…. With what? The girls?"

"They hate me."

"They do not hate you," his response was immediate. You had expected it, and it felt hollow at best. Taking a shaky breath, you leaned your head onto Corey's shoulder, closing your eyes. It seemed like this conversation was going to be happening.

"How they are with you when you're here, are not at all like how they are with me when it's just me."

"I know, but how they are with me is **because** of all you do when I'm not here," Corey highlighted, placing his hand on your leg, moving his thumb lightly on your skin. "You're running this family, baby. Anything good that happens, that's because of you."

"It just doesn't feel like a lot of good lately. I feel like they're both just getting more independent, and I get that, it's growing up, but they just…get mean about it a lot with me. They don't wanna hear my voice anymore, and they don't listen to it a lot."

"They're little kids. They're gonna test the limits as much as they can. And it does suck, and I know it's not easy on you all the time. But it's gonna be worth it," he said. "You remember what I said when you were pregnant with Izzy? We're gonna raise some good people. But making sure they aren't assholes, it's gonna take some time."

"They kind of _are_ assholes right now."

"Yea, that's also part of being kids," Corey conceded with a laugh. "They can be downright little Satans when they wanna be."

"You have no idea," you muttered.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything you do here," he answered. "I don't tell you that enough. I know you're taking the brunt of the bad shit because I'm not always home. And it's not fair, but you do it."

"Motherhood, right?"

"You'll get through this bad period. WE will get through this bad period," Corey assured.

You appreciated his words and comfort. You knew he felt guilty for not being home more, and for the disproportionate responsibility you took on his in absence. But you knew what you signed up for being with a man working in professional wrestling. You had little room to complain, even though you were doing just that.

"How about this, tomorrow, you get the fuck out for the day. I'll deal with the Terror Twins."

"I don't even know what I'd do," you stated.

"Whatever you want, I don't know. Shopping. Laying in a park doing nothing. Hell, go to Ashley's and get day drunk," he listed off ideas, making a smile come to your face.

"I like that last one."

"Cool. Then I'll see you for hangover dinner tomorrow," Corey replied. "Or fuck, just crash at her place if it comes down to it. I can hold this down here."

"You're kinda cool," you stated, turning your head to look up at him. "Kinda might be in love with you."

"Fuck yeah you are. Kinda in love with you too."


End file.
